


A Wizard in Toronto’s Police Department

by sunstarunicorn



Series: Magical Flashpoint Side Stories [32]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Flashpoint (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, SRU Boot Camp, Wizards and Guns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26463289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunstarunicorn/pseuds/sunstarunicorn
Summary: Roy Lane agreed to be Auror Giles Onasi’s new partner, but now Giles has to learn how to be a cop, which includes learning how to use a gun.  And, since the two new partners may end up on hot calls, the pair finds themselves in Team One’s version of SRU boot camp.
Series: Magical Flashpoint Side Stories [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/576850
Comments: 13
Kudos: 6





	1. New Partner?

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the Magical Flashpoint Side Story series. It follows "Meeting Dean Parker" and comes before "Defying the Odds".
> 
> Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own _Flashpoint_ , _Harry Potter_ , _Narnia_ , or _Merlin_.

“You want to do _what?_ ”

Auror Giles Onasi cringed, but held his ground. “I want to partner with Detective Roy Lane,” he repeated, his voice almost, _almost_ calm.

Madame Locksley stared at him as if he’d lost his mind – and maybe he _had_. After all, regardless of Team One’s status and reputation, _no_ wizard in the history of the Canadian Auror Division had _ever_ partnered with a Mug…er, techie before. Nor had any wizard in history ever been permitted to _legally_ carry and _use_ a techie firearm.

When it became clear that she had, in fact, heard Giles correctly, Madame Locksley removed her monocle to rub her forehead, attempting to alleviate the headache she was already getting. “Let me get this straight,” she began, pointedly not looking at her Auror. “I tell you to find a new partner and _you_ pick someone just as screwed up as _you_ are, only without a lick of magic?”

Giles fidgeted, but knew better than to move – or respond.

“Tell me, Auror Onasi, do you _enjoy_ making things difficult? Do you _relish_ attempting an end run around division policy?” Madame Locksley looked up, her eyes narrowing. “Surely you must _know_ this can’t _possibly_ work; he’s a _Muggle_ , for crying out loud.”

“So are the members of Team One,” Giles replied simply, mentally digging his heels in. “And they’ve been working on _our_ side of the fence for almost three years.”

“ _Temporarily_ ,” Locksley countered. “They work _primarily_ in the Muggle world and they are _never_ called in for the day-to-day dealings of the Auror Division. Any partner of yours _would_ be. He has no defense, no way to use our usual methods of investigation, and not a single citizen would trust an Auror _without magic!_ ”

Onasi tilted his chin up, a stubborn look crossing his face. “Then we outfit Roy just like we outfitted Team One. He can’t use a wand to investigate, but he’s trained to investigate the Muggle way _anyway_.” The Auror hesitated an instant, then blurted, “Just because he doesn’t have magic doesn’t mean he’s less capable.”

Madame Locksley arched one slim, unimpressed brow. “The SRU has proven that point quite nicely, Auror Onasi, but I believe you are missing my point.” She leaned forward, folding her hands under her chin as she regarded her subordinate. “The average citizen expects, even _demands_ , that the majority of our Aurors possess the same or, preferably, _better_ magical abilities than _they_ do. Nor do I believe they are wrong to expect such. By definition, Detective Lane does _not_ fit that requirement. I have little doubt that he is capable, Auror Onasi; for him to impress _you_ guarantees that much; but he still _does not have magic!_ ”

Silence draped the small office and Onasi looked away from Locksley’s piercing gray eyes. Softly, almost too softly for Locksley to hear, Onasi whispered, “He knows what it’s like to lose your best friend.”

The Auror Division Director paused at that, studying her Auror closely, examining the ever present shadows in his eyes…shadows that had been there almost as long as she’d known him. She hadn’t been Director back when Onasi had been assigned a young rookie as his partner by her predecessor – she herself had been a Senior Auror on the Division’s elite Auror Squad – but she’d heard any number of stories about Revan’s never-ending quest to earn Giles Onasi’s trust. At the time, she’d shaken her head in dismay; to put an eager-beaver rookie with a sarcastic, vengeful, grieving man whose greatest goal in life was taking Nick Watson down _with_ him was just _asking_ for trouble.

* * * * *

_“Back off, rookie,” Onasi snarled as he made to storm out of the Auror Division bullpen._

_Revan Vao, who’d planted himself in his older partner’s path, shook his head. “No, Giles,” he countered gently. “You don’t want to do this.”_

_Giles Onasi loomed over the slightly shorter man, his face contorted in raw fury. “Say that again,” he dared, his voice dropping to dangerously soft levels._

_Senior Auror Anne Locksley descended towards the pair, her gray eyes flashing as she sought to get between Giles and his rookie partner before the former could unleash his infamous right hook. But she was too slow; Revan met Giles’ eyes and insisted, “Don’t do this, Giles. You’ll always regret it; we can find another way…a_ better _way to stop Watson.”_

_Giles roared in outrage; his fist slammed into the side of Revan’s head, sending the Junior Auror tumbling into a nearby desk. “Giles, stop!” Anne cried, drawing her wand to immobilize the out of control Auror._

_A Stunner flashed towards her, forcing Anne to dive for cover. “Watson’s gone too far this time,” Giles hissed, oblivious to the irony of his statement. “I_ won’t _let him hurt anyone else!”_

_“You don’t even know where he is!” Anne shot back from her position behind another Auror’s desk; the Auror in question was trembling – he’d been unlucky enough to be Giles’_ last _partner._

_“Then I’ll_ find _him!” Onasi shouted, moving towards the door. “And none of you can stop me…not this time.”_

_The next sound was an odd thump from Onasi’s general location; Anne peered over the top of the desk and her eyes widened. Revan, sporting a bloody nose and the beginnings of a black eye, stood over a paralyzed Giles, his expression contemptuous. “You wanna try that again,_ partner _?” the brunet wizard asked, his voice scathing. “I might be a rookie, but I am_ not _your punching bag, understand? Next time you take a swing at me, that dragonhide jacket of yours is going to be sporting a new color or three.”_

* * * * *

After that incident, Locksley had lobbied – hard – for Auror Onasi to be removed from the Division and tossed in McKean for attacking his coworkers. Ironically, it was Revan who’d put paid to that idea; still sporting a black eye, he’d – with a straight face – claimed that _he_ was the one who’d set Giles off, so if anyone should be punished, it was _him_. Both Aurors had been let off with a warning, something that left Locksley seething.

* * * * *

_“Don’t.”_

_Anne looked up at the rookie Auror, scowling at his presumption, but she kept working, searching for the forms needed for a formal complaint. “I don’t know why you covered for him, Revan, but he’s dangerous. It’s my_ job _to keep people like that off the street.”_

_Revan looked utterly unconcerned with her argument. “The only person he’s a danger to is himself,” the dark-haired Auror drawled, leaning against her desk._

_“Try again once the black eye goes away and I might believe you,” Anne sniped._

_The rookie didn’t even twitch, though he_ did _sigh to himself, running one hand through his hair. “Someone has to believe in him, ‘cause he sure doesn’t believe in himself anymore,” Revan mused. “He’s better than this, ma’am; I know it, you know it,_ he _knows it. I don’t care how many black eyes he gives me or how many times he snarls at me, hoping I’ll give up on him just like everyone else has; I. Am. Not. Giving. Up. On. Him.”_

_The Senior Auror’s movements slowed, the dark blonde woman pausing to study the grimly determined rookie. “He won’t thank you,” Anne warned._

_“Today? No, he sure won’t,” Revan agreed. “But maybe someday he will…heck, maybe someday we’ll be best friends.” At Anne’s shocked look, he grinned. “Hey, might as well aim high. You never know…”_

* * * * *

Perhaps the saddest of ironies was that Revan hadn’t lived long enough to hear Giles call him his best friend; it had been Revan and Revan _alone_ who’d forced Giles to move past his loss and start to _live_ again. If not for Revan, Madame Locksley had no doubt that Giles would be long dead – probably at his own hand, to boot.

And now, staring at her Auror, she realized that she’d made a grave miscalculation; arrogantly, she’d demanded that Giles choose a partner without considering that any new partner would have to fill _Revan’s_ shoes…live up to _Revan’s_ legacy. Giles was too jaded and scarred for just _any_ partner; he needed a partner who understood him and was willing to work hard for his trust and loyalty. Loyalty and trust that was even harder to win in the wake of Revan’s death…

* * * * *

_“I don’t care_ how _you do it, just_ find _them!” Senior Auror Locksley roared at her team. Giles and Revan had gone off on their own, to talk with one of Revan’s informants…and they hadn’t come back. “Track the bloody_ Portkey _, if you have to!” she snarled, unconcerned with the fact that she was losing her temper – spectacularly – on some of her best men; they knew she was just worried._

_Anne stalked out of the room, her temper still boiling; if Giles and Revan died, Nick Watson would have two more bodies to add to his already horrific body count and the Auror Division would be left hurting for months, maybe_ years _. Three of their best undercover Aurors were already dead at Watson’s hand without adding the Division’s two rising stars._

_A year ago, she’d been willing to write Giles Onasi off, but Revan had been right. Because of Revan’s courage and persistence, Giles had recovered the steel and spirit of his early days – tempered by his junior partner and the tragedy he’d been through. And Anne didn’t intend to lose either one of her friends to Watson._

_Outside the room, Brian Wilkins was waiting for her and he had a look on his face that she recognized; he’d found something. “What do you have?” Anne barked, striding past; he whirled and fell into step next to her._

_“I found where Revan was planning to meet with his informant,” Brian replied. “Whoever it was, they weren’t there, but Revan and Giles were ambushed.”_

_Anne swore viciously under her breath, but Brian didn’t even twitch. “Watson was waiting for them,” she hissed, clenching her fists._

_“It looks that way,” Brian agreed solemnly._

_“If ever we’ve needed one of your wild ideas, it’s now, Brian,” Locksley admitted, looking over at her best friend. “Please tell me you have something.”_

_“I wish I_ did _,” the silver haired man remarked, running one hand through his hair. “At this point, I’d almost consider calling the Muggle please men in. If nothing else, it’s extra bodies for the search.”_

_“Would that we could, but even if_ we _keep the Statute, Watson doesn’t care,” Locksley countered, regret in her voice. “We can’t risk it, Brian.”_

_“Then we’ll just have to hope that either we find them before it’s too late or they manage to escape,” came the blunt assessment._

_“Auror Locksley!” They both turned as a relatively new Auror raced up, panting. “The emergency Portkey Revan had, it’s been activated!”_

_“You have them?”_

_A frantic nod. “Revan set the destination himself, ma’am; it’s in an area of dense woodlands several kilometers outside of the city.”_

_“Assemble the men and call in the Healers,” Locksley ordered briskly. As the Auror raced away, she turned to Brian. “Get Nathan – he was Giles’ training Auror – and meet us at the Apparition Point.”_

_“Yes, ma’am!” Brian confirmed, tossing her a Muggle salute._

* * * * *

Anne Locksley tapped her desk, thinking over her options; Giles had gone completely still, able to tell that his superior wanted _silence_. In truth, Madame Locksley was strongly considering allowing Giles to continue on as he had – he’d lasted this long without a partner, after all. But she wasn’t sure it was best for _Giles_ to no longer have a partner…he had no one to rely on, no one to bounce ideas off of, and, perhaps most importantly, no one to pull him back when the weight of his past threatened to crush him.

At last, she spoke. “Consider yourself restricted to desk duty for the foreseeable future, Auror Onasi. I will inform you of my final decision regarding your request once I have made it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Giles acknowledged, though the look on his face made it clear what he thought the decision would be.

Anne waited for her Auror to trudge out, then drew her wand and flicked it at the door, securing it against anyone eavesdropping or coming in while she was occupied. The Auror Division Director pulled out her magical phone and dialed a very specific number. When it was picked up, she drawled, “Auror Sergeant Parker, I would be much obliged if you could arrange for Auror Lane and his brother Detective Lane to come down to my office.” Pause. “The sooner the better, Sergeant.” She smiled at Parker’s reply. “I look forward to your arrival, then.”

_And the die is cast…_


	2. License to Carry

Ed grimaced as he hauled Roy through the Muggle-Repelling Charms around the old telephone booth that served as the Canadian Ministry of Magic visitor’s entrance. The sooner they reached the Ministry atrium, the better, because Roy, under the influence of the Muggle-Repelling Charms, was throwing every insult he could think of at his brother. Greg Parker cast Ed a sympathetic look as he shifted over to make room for the pair in the phone booth.

“Roy, do us both a favor and _shut up_ ,” Ed burst out as Roy took a breath. “ _You’re_ the one who agreed to do this, remember?”

“Eddie,” the Boss stepped in, a hint of warning in his voice. It wasn’t _Roy’s_ fault that he was being affected by the Ministry’s wards; Ed huffed and backed down, though he shot Roy a look _daring_ him to keep throwing insults.

For his part, Roy looked rather sheepish as the booth descended away from the Muggle-Repelling Charms. When the booth ground to a halt and the doors opened, it took a nudge from Ed to get Roy moving into the atrium of the Ministry building and once inside, Ed was forced to tow Roy along as his younger brother gawped at both the atrium and the hustle and bustle of Toronto’s magical population.

Compared to the British Ministry of Magic, the Canadian building was austere, favoring a more subtle cream and bronze color scheme on its walls and ceiling. Instead of being inlaid with symbols, the ceiling of the atrium was a series of ogee **(1)** arches made of marble and decorated with intricate carving. Magical creatures of all shapes and sizes adorned the sides of the arches, their stone features regarding the bustle of the atrium with regal disregard. The floor of the atrium was maple wood, each plank carefully chosen to compliment and bolster its fellows. Though the wood was as old as the building, it gleamed as if freshly cut, laid, and polished. Unlike the British Ministry, the atrium sported no fountain, nor any grand statues. Instead, there was a monument in the center of the atrium with the Canadian Ministry’s seal carved into one side, a Canadian maple leaf carved into the opposite side, and lists of names inscribed on the two remaining sides.

Roy’s attention was caught by the names and he glanced over at his brother, puzzled. “Is that a memorial?”

Ed nodded soberly. “It’s a memorial for every wizard who’s ever fallen in the line of duty,” he explained quietly. “The explanation _we_ got is that the guy who sponsored the bill for the memorial visited England and wasn’t too impressed with the British atrium’s fountain – it’s a big gold monstrosity that glorifies wizards over just about every other kind of magical being.”

“So they used to have something different here?” Roy asked curiously.

Greg spoke up from the opposite side. “If they did, it’s long gone.” Gesturing at the memorial, he added, “That memorial is over two hundred years old.”

Glancing back, Roy allowed a soft whistle. “It looks so _normal_ …”

The Boss chuckled at the comment. “Magic or not, people are people, Roy,” he chided, keeping his tone nonjudgmental. He veered towards one of the elevators, holding the door open for his two companions. To the elevator operator, he requested, “Auror Division, please.”

The operator inclined his head, setting the elevator in motion. Around the elevator cage, several of the support chains rattled and gears ground against each other as the elevator descended into the Ministry’s depths.

* * * * *

A witch was waiting in an office, her gray eyes intent as the three men entered, Ed and Parker greeting her and Roy glancing around the office curiously. After a quick look around, Roy shifted to look at the woman and fidgeted at her piercing, challenging stare, unsure of how to handle himself around an unknown witch; so far he was one and one with wizards – one had tried to kill him while the other had offered to be his new partner.

Once the door was shut, silence draped the small space; Roy forced himself to meet the witch’s eyes as she stared at him, her expression challenging and her eyes a mix of sad and determined. After a minute or so, Roy decided to throw caution to the winds and blatantly returned the challenging look, squaring his shoulders and tilting his chin up defiantly.

“Revan Vao,” Locksley began, breaking the stalemate. The three men jumped at her abrupt statement. “The first and perhaps _only_ person to earn Giles Onasi’s trust after the deaths of Giles’ wife and son.” Roy swallowed hard at that tidbit, but waited for the witch to finish. “If not for Revan, I doubt Giles would ever have recovered from their deaths…in fact, I doubt any of you ever would have met Giles in the first place.”

“He was suicidal?” Ed questioned, his eyes dark and troubled.

“I suppose that’s one way to look at it, Auror Lane. But one thing was for sure; after his family died, Giles was _determined_ to take Watson down, regardless of the consequences. And if he died in the effort…well, I suspect _that_ was the outcome he _favored_. Then Revan came along and he _refused_ to let Giles destroy himself, despite everything Giles could – and did – throw at him.”

“And then Revan died as well,” Parker observed grimly.

A nod. “Yes,” the dark blonde witch confirmed. “How Giles survived Revan’s death, I truly don’t know.” After a beat, she met Roy’s eyes again, all but tossing a gauntlet down in front of the Guns ‘n’ Gangs detective. “So, _Detective_ Lane, tell me why I should let you fill Revan’s shoes. Particularly when you and Giles are each as broken as the other.”

Roy reared back, shocked by her frontal assault and the bluntness of her words. “He’s the one who asked me,” the detective protested weakly.

Surprise flashed across the woman’s face; she hadn’t known that. “I see,” she murmured, but her expression was unimpressed and unconvinced.

The dark-haired detective looked down, suddenly ashamed. Two _months_ and he was already looking to replace Jerome? _Replace_ his best friend…inconceivable, impossible…but he had no more choice in the matter than Onasi did; once he was back on the job, his Sergeant would expect him to get a new partner, just like this woman expected Giles to get a new partner. “I-I suppose he asked me ‘cause I just lost _my_ partner and I helped take down the guy he hated,” Roy mumbled, not looking up.

To Roy’s utter shock, Sergeant Parker intervened, his voice calm and steady. “Madame Locksley, I can understand your reservations, but from what Eddie told me, Giles will have to get a new partner regardless of whether it’s Roy or someone else. Both Roy and Giles share a uniquely tragic experience – they lost partners whom they considered their best friends. Which one of your Aurors can offer the same?”

“Of those I have available, none,” the witch admitted softly. “And if Detective Lane had magic, I confess many of my reservations would be non-issues, but he does not.”

“Nor does any member of my team, ma’am,” Parker countered.

“Your team may hold Auror status, Sergeant Parker, but the majority of your work is _still_ in the Muggle world,” was the flat rebuttal.

“What if we went half-and-half?” Roy blurted. “I mean, I’ve still got a job at the 12th Division, so it’s not like I can up and move to _your_ Division anyway…”

“And Giles is still Team One’s Auror liaison,” Ed pointed out. “He’s not exactly a regular Auror any more, is he?”

A thoughtful expression spread across Madame Locksley’s face. Almost to herself, she murmured, “No, he’s not.” She tapped her fingers on her desk, considering all three men, clearly waging a silent debate with herself. Roy glanced over at his brother, feeling more unsure of himself by the second…maybe this _hadn’t_ been such a good idea…

“He would be the first wizard to _legally_ carry a gun, Detective Lane,” Locksley drawled, a cunning glint in her gaze as she reclaimed the attention of the three men and pinned Roy with her eyes. Roy swallowed…he’d known Onasi had no idea of how to handle a gun, but he hadn’t known guns were illegal in the magical world.

“ _You_ would have to teach him how to use it properly and how to be a Muggle police officer, all without the two of you getting _caught_ by the Muggles you work with,” the witch continued, a slow smirk spreading across her face at the doubtful expression on Roy’s face; at the sight of that smirk, Roy internally straightened to attention, though he kept his expression from reacting. As the witch continued to outline the challenges he would face, Roy even let his eyes fall to the floor, biting his lip doubtfully.

“You would also have to ensure that _no one_ , not even your superior, discovers that Giles is a wizard.” Almost smug, she leaned back in her chair, but couldn’t resist a final volley. “Are you willing to take on that responsibility? Are you willing to partner with a _wizard_ who may _never_ learn to trust you?”

It was clear what she expected the answer to be, but Ed was working hard to hide a smirk. If Madame Locksley had _truly_ wanted Roy to drop the idea of working with Giles like a bad habit, she shouldn’t have challenged him. For all that the witch professed to respect her ‘Muggle’ Aurors, it seemed that she hadn’t learned anything at all from them.

The smug expression on Locksley’s face vanished as Roy brought his head up, light gray eyes glittering in the light of the small office and a wicked half-grin on his face. “When do we start?” the detective asked, a lilt of mocking in his question.

* * * * *

Giles did his best to keep from blanching as Roy dropped two more tome-sized Muggle…no, darn it, _techie_ …books on the stack Giles already had in his arms. “That’s the basics,” Roy remarked. _The basics?_ “We’ll start with those and focus on the stuff you’ll need to know for the day-to-day. Once you’ve got that under your belt, we’ll add in the court stuff, just in case.”

“Just in case?”

Roy shrugged nonchalantly. “You never know when the DA might need you to testify in court about how and why you took down a particular bad guy. You’ll be new, so the DA will probably stick with me at first, but sooner or later, you’re going to see stuff that I’m not around to see and you’ll end up testifying.”

“Not around?” Giles questioned worriedly.

For a moment, Roy stared at him, then comprehension dawned. “Oh! Not like that, honest.”

Then Giles got the point and he nodded, cutting Roy off. “Two different viewpoints,” he concluded. He eyed the books, sighing internally. “But what if it happens early on? And what’s a DA?”

That earned the Auror a grimace. “Then we pull an all-nighter getting you up to speed on how to work with the district attorney,” Roy admitted, quirking one brow up and earning an understanding nod from Giles. “But let’s not borrow trouble; we’ve got enough of a challenge on our hands.” The detective tilted his head to the side. “I’d start with teaching you how to handle your gun, but it sounds like it’s going to be another couple of days before the paperwork for your license gets squared away. Can’t get you a gun till that’s done.”

Giles nodded glumly; he’d been shocked by how complicated it was to get a gun. “How long, do you know?”

“Well, between the magic stuff and you getting fast-tracked for Guns ‘n’ Gangs, it’ll be faster than most people, but, yeah, probably still a week.” Roy grimaced, making his way to the seating area of the law library he’d dragged his new partner to once Madame Locksley had agreed to let her Auror become an actual, genuine _cop_.

“Will your Sergeant be okay with _you_ choosing your new partner?” Giles inquired cautiously, setting his load down on the table Roy pointed to and glancing around to make sure they couldn’t be overheard.

“Don’t know,” Roy replied, “Your superior promised to handle that part, but I think my Sarge is still mad at me over going rogue. He probably had someone who loves rules and procedure all lined up for me.”

Giles couldn’t help a tiny smirk at that. “There are two types of people in the world; those who follow the rules and those who get things done.”

Roy shot an answering smirk back at Giles. “Don’t let Ed hear you say that.”

Cracking the first book open, the Auror pretended to consider that, then offered up, “Okay, _three_ types of people…you’ve got the first two and then you’ve got Team One.” As Giles started to wade through the complicated legal jargon, Roy sputtered with laughter in the background. Partway through the first section, the Auror paused, blinking at the word he’d just read. “Roy? What’s a DUI?”

[1] A pointed arch with an ‘S’ shaped curve on both sides. Also called a keel arch, for its resemblance to a boat’s keel


	3. On Gun Care and Handling

Giles blinked as Roy finished demonstrating how to load a ‘magazine’ into his brand-new gun. “So,” Giles began hesitantly, “How often do you have to do that?”

“Depends on how big the magazine is,” Roy replied, giving his new partner a slight grin. “Most of us use Glock 17 handguns, so that’s what I got you, too. It comes standard with a seventeen round magazine, which should be plenty of ammo most of the time.” Giving Giles a sardonic look, Roy added, “But reloading is one of the easiest parts.”

Giles winced at that tidbit. “Um…now what?”

Roy grinned and handed Giles the gun. “Now your turn. Magazine’s unloaded, so we don’t have any accidents, but we’re gonna act like the gun’s just been shot. Eject the magazine and rack the slide to check for a round in the chamber. Once you check for the round, reinsert the magazine.”

“Rack?” Giles questioned, staring at the gun in his hands as if it would bite him as soon as he looked away.

Roy blinked, then offered a slightly chagrined look. “Pull the slide back,” he elaborated.

Awkward, Giles juggled the gun, hunting for the little button his partner had hit to make the magazine thing come out. After a minute, Roy chuckled and pointed to a spot just above the gun’s ‘grip’; Giles pushed it down and yelped in surprise as the magazine slid out. Only Roy’s quick grab kept the magazine from falling to the ground.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…” Giles began; Roy cut him off at the pass with a glare. The detective thrust the magazine at Giles, a stubborn cast to his features.

“You got through the law books, didn’t you?” Roy reminded the other man. “We both knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but I’m _not_ letting you quit just ‘cause you dropped the magazine. Now, put down the magazine and rack the slide to check for a round in the chamber.”

Giles swallowed hard, but obeyed; first he tugged at the slide, frowning when it didn’t immediately react to his tug. Frustrated, he started to turn the gun to get a better grip on the slide, but Roy’s hand shot out, keeping the gun in place. “ _Never_ point a gun at yourself, Giles,” the detective snapped. “ _Always_ assume it’s loaded and never point a gun at something you don’t want dead. Now hold still and take a _good_ look at where the gun is aimed _and_ where your trigger finger is.”

The Auror blinked, but inspected the gun and almost instantly blanched. Roy had caught the gun just an instant before the gun could point at its new owner and his forefinger had somehow slipped into the gun’s trigger guard; it rested right against the trigger and Giles already knew that the least amount of pressure against that trigger could cause the gun to fire. But… “But the slide isn’t pulling back,” Onasi complained.

“Move your hand,” Roy requested; once Giles pulled his left hand away from the gun, Roy braced his right hand against the back of Giles’ hand and pulled on the slide with his free hand. It took a moment, but the slide finally moved in its housing, revealing the weapon’s barrel and a short area at the top of the gun that looked a bit longer than the bullets Roy had shown Giles earlier. Roy pulled the slide back as far as it would go, then asked, “You got a good grip?”

“Yes.”

With a nod, Roy released the slide, grinning at the look on Giles’ face as the slide shot forward and rocked the gun a bit. “There we go, just a bit stiff right now,” Roy remarked. “You’ll have to use more force at first, but the slide should get easier to use after awhile.”

“Do I have to do that each time?” Giles asked.

Roy shook his head. “Nope. Once the gun has a round loaded, you fire and it automatically chambers the next round for you. When you run out of bullets, the slide will lock in the rearward position; that’s the gun’s way of telling you you’re out of ammo.” The detective pointed to a tiny metal lever right under the slide. “That’s what locks the slide and you can unlock the slide in two ways. First way is with that lever, but it can be a pain in the butt to press sometimes.”

“And the second way?”

“Second way is partially what we did when I had you unload the magazine,” Roy explained with a half-grin. “Otherwise, it would’ve locked when I racked the slide for you. Once the magazine is unloaded, you rack the slide again and it resets itself.” The detective paused to let that sink in, then continued, “Of course, if you have to reload, you’ll usually have to rack the slide for the first round, but remember, this gun has seventeen rounds in one magazine. Following me so far, partner?”

Giles blinked at Roy’s half-tentative, half-casual first use of the word ‘partner’, but gamely nodded.

Roy tossed the Auror another grin and ordered, “Okay, your turn with the slide. Let’s see you rack it – this time _without_ pointing the gun at yourself or sneaking your finger in on the trigger, got it? And remember to keep your fingers and your hand away from the slide’s edges…don’t want it to ‘bite’ you, all right?”

“Right,” Giles murmured, focusing the gun and keeping all of Roy’s instructions in mind. Having seen how Roy worked the slide, Giles had an easier time racking the slide, though it still took a conscious effort to keep his forefinger away from the trigger and the gun from aiming at himself. Hopefully, with time and practice, the gun would become easier to handle.

From the side, Roy nodded approval. “Good, good. Now, let’s add the magazine to this. Slide it back in and try again. With an empty magazine in, the slide will lock, so you can practice unlocking it, too. Once you’re comfortable with the magazine and the slide, I’ll show you how to clean the gun.”

“Clean the gun?” Giles queried in disbelief as he picked up the magazine.

One brow quirked in amusement. “Yep. These things don’t stay in tip-top shape on their own, after all.”

* * * * *

Several hours later, Roy was hard put to keep from laughing; Giles had somehow managed to get gun oil all over himself and spill the cleaning solvent on every last one of the cotton patches – not to mention the gun cleaning kit and the table. The gun itself was only partially disassembled and Giles was trying to oil the firing pin without removing the slide; suffice to say, it wasn’t going very well and the wizard knew it. He cast Roy an utterly hangdog look, clearly questioning his and Roy’s sanity for agreeing to this scheme.

“Okay, ready for me to help you with that?” Roy inquired, stifling a snigger or two.

Now his new partner gave him an incredulous look. “I thought you wanted _me_ to learn this,” Giles remarked.

“And you will,” Roy replied nonchalantly, snagging a chair and setting it on the opposite side of the table they were using. “But it’s not going to happen overnight, partner.” Roy picked up the gun and slipped the slide off the top. “Tell me, you figure out the whole magic gig in a day?”

Giles hesitated, then shook his head. “Well, I grew up in the wizarding world, so I had a leg up on the Muggleborns, but no, no one learns magic before eleven and even once you get to school, they make you learn the theory before you can cast any spells.”

“What about your wands? Do they always work or do you have to take care of them?” Roy asked, honestly curious now that he had a _wizard_ for a partner.

Giles tilted his head to the side, thinking over Roy’s question for a minute; observing Roy’s progress with the gun cleaning, he answered, “For the most part, yeah, they always work as long as you don’t damage them. One of my Defense teachers believed regular polishing kept them working better, but I never saw all that much of a difference.” The Auror shrugged. “There’s one guy in the Division that doesn’t take good care of his wand and it seems like every other year, he’s got a new one.”

“So it does make a difference?” Roy pressed.

Another shrug and Giles propped one arm on the table, resting his chin on that hand. “Suppose so,” he conceded, watching Roy’s actions closely. “What about you?”

Roy blinked, then offered a shrug of his own. “They taught me this stuff at the Academy,” he explained. “And on the job. Ed said he’d help once I got you far enough along to head to the gun range.”

“You aren’t teaching me?”

“Well, sort of. Never taught anyone how to shoot before, plus Ed knows some SRU tricks that I don’t.” Roy nodded to himself as he set the gun down and started to reassemble it for the last step in cleaning.

“Why not ‘just the basics’?”

Roy cast Giles a tiny smirk. “Oh, you’ll get the basics all right. But if we want to pull this off, you’re gonna need every trick Ed can show you.”

Understanding shone. “ _Those_ kinds of tricks, huh?”

“Yep.”

* * * * *

Surveying the pair on the gun range, Ed Lane knew it was going _anything_ but well; Giles yelped immediately after firing his new gun and dropped it. Roy caught it before it could fall on the ground, sighing. “Your hand was too high on the grip,” he informed the wizard – said wizard was shaking his hand with an expression of pure dismay.

Ed entered the gun range, wincing as he spotted Giles’ hand; the Auror sported a bloody streak between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand, courtesy of his semi-automatic’s slide. Following up on Roy’s advice, he called, “Keep your hand _below_ the slide at all times; that thing moves too fast to get your hand out of the way after you fire.” Moving up next to the two, Ed pointed to the back of the gun and added, “That’s what the grip guard is for, to keep the slide from ‘biting’ you.”

“Is that what that ridge is for?” Giles groaned, discreetly pulling his wand and casting a Healing Charm on his hand. “That bloody well _smarts!_ ” He looked up at Ed, his expression pleading. “Tell me I can just use my wand for all of this.”

“Nope,” Ed countered at once. “You’d either blow the Statute of Secrecy or have to _Obliviate_ just about everyone you meet.” And needless to say, neither Ed nor Roy were going to put up with _Obliviations_ when Giles could just learn how to use his new gun instead. “Was that your first shot?”

A glum nod.

“Well, then, that’s the problem. You’re just starting out; we’ve all been there and we’ve all made our share of mistakes on the range. Now, Roy’s going to demonstrate how to fire while I talk you through what he’s doing.”

Roy looked less than enthused, but didn’t argue with his brother. Instead, he moved to be in the center of the firing booth the three men were using and took his stance, bringing Giles’ gun up and on target.

Ed explained Roy’s stance and each step in the firing process as Roy aimed and fired the Glock, then took charge of the gun and unloaded it. “Okay, we’re going to start with dry firing. That’s all we’re gonna do this lesson.”

“All?” Giles questioned.

“Yep,” Ed confirmed. “Unloaded, the gun can’t hurt anyone and _you_ need to practice your stance and aim anyway.”

Roy frowned. “Ed, how’s this gonna work? Gamboli’s going to expect Giles to know how to shoot a gun when he starts next week.”

“No, he won’t,” Ed countered calmly. “Greg told Holleran about you and Giles partnering up and Holleran came up with a cover story. Onasi’s going to be a detective just coming off the injured list; the ‘injury’ happened a couple years ago and it’s taken this long for Onasi to get cleared medically.”

The two men glanced at each other, baffled, but it was Giles who asked, “And how does that get me out of knowing how to shoot a gun my first day?”

“Simple,” Ed informed them, “You haven’t been cleared to shoot a gun until this week and you need to get requalified before you can carry again. All _we_ have to do this week is get you far enough along that Sergeant Gamboli buys the story about you needing to get ‘requalified’. And best of all, ‘cause Roy was getting close to his quals, Holleran’s going to pull a favor or two to get you two temporarily assigned to the SRU for your qualifications.”

“Why do I think it’s _not_ going to be that simple?” Roy questioned aloud, groaning at his brother’s smirk.

* * * * *

To Roy’s surprise, the beginning, at least, went off without a hitch, though Ed had neglected to mention that Commander Holleran had sold the idea to Roy’s superior by presenting the temporary transfer – and the requalification – as one final _punishment_ for Roy’s decision to go rogue and attempt to take down Nick Watson all by himself.

Sergeant Gamboli took the opportunity to verbally rip his detective up one side and down the other in front of said detective’s new partner; the experience left both men embarrassed and in no doubt of the fact that Roy Lane was on _very_ thin ice as far as the Sergeant was concerned. It also left Roy hoping that his superior never found out that ‘Detective’ Onasi was _actually_ a wizard…

* * * * *

As soon as the two detectives showed up at the SRU, they were all but shoved in Ed’s direction, the latter gleeful over the upcoming lessons and the former dreading them. Ed gave them no time to get nervous; he hauled them into the SRU’s shooting range as soon as the two new arrivals had put their coats away in the locker room.

“Okay,” Ed began, directing most of his attention towards the shooting rookie. “Last week was all about getting you through today’s meeting with Roy’s Sarge. _Now_ we’re going to start actually _firing_ your weapon, _if_ you handle it properly.” The SRU constable smirked and added, “And don’t think I missed the fact that you left your gun in the locker,” Giles flushed bright red, “That’s gonna cost you. Go get it; be back in one minute or I add a few more _activities_ for later.” The smirk grew larger. “One minute…starting… Now!”

Giles practically blurred as he raced for the locker room and his gun. He cut in, darted to his locker, and yanked the carry case for his gun out, then raced back to the range. The panting Auror made it with five seconds to spare.

Ed smirked again. “Good to know you can move fast when you need to.” Moving on, the team leader turned to Roy. “Go get a couple targets. Today is all Giles; I’ll set you up with Spike and Lou tomorrow for _your_ quals.”

Roy snapped a salute and hurried off while Ed stood over Giles, inspecting the gun Giles lifted clear of the case. “Keeping it clean?” Ed inquired.

“Yes,” Giles replied, pushing the case lid down. “Roy said to clean it after every lesson, so I get in the habit.”

“Good for Roy,” Ed approved. “He get you a holster yet?” At Giles’ headshake, the team leader nodded to himself. “We’ll get you one this week.”

Giles fidgeted, then spoke up. “Um, Madame Locksley got me permission to have and carry a gun, but I’m not allowed to have it while I’m on-duty at the Auror Division.”

“Copy that,” Ed acknowledged. “We’ll work on that; maybe Sarge can talk her into letting you carry it once we’ve got you trained up and you’ve carried it for awhile.”

“Got ‘em, bro,” Roy called, coming back with the targets.

“Okay, put the first one up and get it out to the closest range,” Ed ordered. Roy pulled a face behind Ed’s back, but obeyed. Once the target was in place, Ed’s attention switched to Giles. “Load your magazine and let’s get started.”

* * * * *

“There you go,” Ed congratulated, smacking Giles’ shoulder in clear approval as Giles managed to fire the entire magazine without injuring himself or missing the target once.

The first full magazine had gone well until the last round, when Giles accidently put his left hand too high and got ‘bit’ by the slide. The second full magazine had nailed Giles’ knuckle on the fourth round, forcing a halt while Giles discreetly healed his hand, hissing swear words under his breath the entire time. The third magazine hadn’t nailed Giles’ hands, but his aim was horrible; half of the rounds hadn’t hit the target at all and the other half decorated the target paper’s white areas rather than the target itself. Giles eyed the results of his fourth magazine with quiet hope that he was starting to get the hang of the Glock in his hands.

“Roy, pull it in,” Ed called over his shoulder.

“Got it,” Roy called back, yanking on the line; Giles watched as the white paper with a vaguely human shaped target moved towards them. Once it was close enough, Ed called a halt and the three inspected Giles’ results. Roy winced. “You’re getting better on aiming, but all of them are still low.”

Ed nodded, but didn’t offer up his own opinion…at least at first. The SRU team leader leaned closer to the target, his expression thoughtful. Giles sighed, discouraged by the results. “I’m shooting better now, so why are they all off?” he asked. “I could’ve _sworn_ I aimed properly…”

“Roy, get another target and make sure no one else is in here,” Ed abruptly ordered, reaching forward to take the old target down.

Startled, Roy obeyed, checking all the other booths. When he came back with a new target, he reported, “No one else here, Ed. What’ve you got in mind?”

Ed took the target, attached it to the line, and quickly moved it out to the distance they’d been using all along. Giles reached for his gun, only to have Ed wave him off. “You got a spell that acts like a bullet?” Ed inquired, arching a brow.

Giles blinked, but nodded. “Yeah, I can think of one.”

Ed stepped back. “Seventeen shots with that spell. Go!”

Giles’ hand blurred down to his wand holster and, as soon as the wand came up, he hissed, “ _Percutio!_ ” A flash leapt from the wand, followed by several more flashes; Giles cast the rest of the spells silently, his wand bucking with the speed of his casting.

Once the final spell hit the target, Giles lowered his wand with a sharp nod. Roy reeled in the target without being asked and Ed remained in his position, examining the spell marked target. Once the paper halted, Ed held up the bullet ridden paper with a solemn expression. Roy and Giles blinked as they realized the spells were all in the center of the target, while the bullets were clustered a few centimeters below the center.

“Ed?” Roy questioned, tilting his head to the side.

“Yep, that’s it,” Ed remarked, more to himself than either of his fellow Aurors/cops. Turning away from the targets, he looked Giles in the eye and explained, “A wand shoots in a straight line, but a gun doesn’t. The bullet arcs as it flies and that’s your problem. You’re not compensating for the arc.”

“In other words,” Roy butted in, “Shoot higher.”

“That’s a start,” Ed agreed, to Roy’s poorly hidden surprise. “And trust the gun sights more than you are…as long as they’re calibrated properly, they should give you an accurate sighting. Remember what I said: the follow-through is just as important as aiming and firing properly.” The team leader smirked. “Ready to try again?”

Giles looked between the two targets, his gaze thoughtful. “Yes, _sir_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not an expert on guns or how to clean and use them. All the facts used in this chapter were researched online and I didn't download a manual for the Glock 17 or anything like that. So, take my facts and the gun lesson with a few grains of salt.


	4. SRU Boot Camp

Giles sighed in relief as Ed signed off on his firearm qualifications; he was nowhere near being an expert, but after a week of intensive training, Lane had pronounced him good enough to keep from ‘shooting his foot off’. Ed looked up from the paper, his gaze solemn. “Keep practicing,” he ordered, “As many times a week as you and Roy can manage, both dry-firing and with live ammo. You’re good enough to squeak by, but I’m only signing you off ‘cause of the special circumstances, understand?”

“Understood,” Giles agreed. A thought occurred and he frowned, just a touch. “But Roy and I have another week here, don’t we?”

Ed smirked. “Glad to see you remembered that, rookie.” And why did Giles have a bad feeling about that smirk? “Enjoy the weekend, ‘cause next week is SRU boot camp.”

“What?” Roy demanded before Giles could process Ed’s statement. “We’re not SRU, Ed,” the detective protested.

“Correction, Roy. You _weren’t_ SRU, but then you picked a new partner who _is_ ,” Ed countered, the smirk on his face growing. “I _did_ warn you, Roy.”

Giles looked between the Lane brothers, confused. “But you’ve never insisted I have any special training before now,” he pointed out.

“Before now, you weren’t a cop,” Ed retorted. “And now you are.” At the slightly panicked looks he got from both men, the SRU team leader relented. “Look, it’s just going to be the basics, but the Boss insisted. You’re both cops and there’s a chance you’ll end up on SRU hot calls, so you’ve got to be able to handle them.”

“The basics,” Roy echoed, looking decidedly unenthused.

A innocent looking shrug came from the team leader. “Yep,” Ed confirmed. “Climbing, rappelling, a few live fire practice sessions, maybe some negotiating, and a bit of hand-to-hand.”

Giles and Roy traded looks, both of them wondering if it was too late to back out…

* * * * *

“The _next_ time I think up a crazy scheme like partnering with a wizard who works with my brother, I’m just gonna shoot myself,” Roy groaned as he hunted for the next handhold on the SRU climbing tower.

“Shoot me first,” Giles opined from just below his partner, “That way we’ll _both_ be out of our misery. To your left.”

Roy looked left and spotted the next handhold. “Good thing I’m not afraid of heights,” the detective grumbled as he pushed himself to the left and reached out for the small spike driven into the side of the tower.

“Give me a good broom over this any day,” Giles moaned, right before Roy, reaching for the spike, lost his grip on his current handhold. The Auror lurched to the side and grabbed his partner before Roy could tumble. For a second or two, Giles held Roy, then lost his own handhold and started to fall; the yelps were cut off as their belayers caught the fall.

“Ready to come down?” Jules called, tilting her head to the side and tossing a cheeky grin skyward. At the dark looks from the climbers, she chuckled and added, “Okay, remember how to rappel?”

“Yes,” Giles called, elbowing Roy before the latter could unleash his temper.

“Great. Get in position and tell us when you’re ready.”

Roy groaned, but Giles, more interested in getting down than belaboring the point, shifted and maneuvered himself into the rappelling position. Once he was ready, he called, “Rappelling!”

“Rappel on,” Lou, his belayer, called back.

Giles pushed off, letting the rope slip through his fingers and watching his climbing progress swiftly diminish as he came down. Above him, Roy grumbled a bit longer before he twisted and started his own rappel; Giles heard Jules giggle when Roy forgot to communicate and she refused to slacken his rope.

“Jules, c’mon!” Roy called, frustrated.

“Oh, are you ready, Roy?” Jules teased. “I didn’t hear you tell me you were.”

Another groan drifted down, then Roy gritted out, “Rappelling.”

“Rappel on,” Jules acknowledged.

In the meantime, Giles touched down and breathed a sigh of relief as Lou came over to help him out of the climbing harness. Lou gave the rookie a slight grin. “You’ll get used to it,” the tan-skinned constable reassured Giles. “Couple more times and it’ll get a whole lot easier, I promise.”

“Just a couple?” Giles inquired, a hint of sarcasm under his voice.

Open laughter spilled from the less-lethal specialist. “Okay, a _lot_ more times,” Lou teased. “Just be grateful Sarge isn’t going to demand that you and Roy join our training sessions fulltime.”

Nearby, Roy touched down in time to hear Lou’s remark. “Oh, that’s _just_ what Sergeant Gamboli would _love_ ,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Fulltime punishment for going rogue.”

Both SRU constables laughed. “Could be worse, Roy,” Jules pointed out. “Could be _Ed_ teaching you climbing and rappelling; he offered, but Sarge turned him down.”

“Thank God for small favors,” Roy muttered under his breath. “What’s next, the live fire exercise?”

“Yes,” Jules and Lou replied together.

Both detectives groaned.

* * * * *

Roy grimaced as the live fire exercise started on the _roof_ of the SRU training area. Wordy tossed both detectives a wide grin and called, “We’re rappelling in, guys. I’ll handle entry, then you two take down the subjects.”

“Take down the subjects?” Giles echoed, nerves showing.

“Yep,” Wordy confirmed, hauling a _highly_ reluctant Giles over to the rappelling ropes and strapping him in. “Jules and Lou show you two how to disconnect from the rope once you’re down?” At the twin sheepish looks, the brunet chuckled. “No problem; Sarge knew the first day was gonna be the slowest.”

With that, Wordy patiently explained how to get their carabiners free from the rappelling rope without wasting time and had both of them practice several times to get the hang of the technique. Once he was satisfied that the detectives could handle their carabiners, he latched the two into the rappelling ropes and added a few last minute instructions. “Most of the time, we don’t have belayers in the field for this type of operation, but you two haven’t passed the climbing/rappelling certifications, so _I’ll_ be your belayer. We’re going to rappel from the roof to a landing right above where the subjects are hiding. Touch down as quietly as you can manage and wait for me to join you before making entry. Copy?”

“Copy,” Roy acknowledged, shifting to go first. Wordy nodded approval, then called, “Rappel on,” as softly as he could. Roy winced, but backed off the edge and rappelled down to the landing right below him. Once he was down, he unhooked his carabiner and moved out of the way, pulling his weapon.

Watching from above, Wordy allowed a brief grin before he pulled the rope up and swiftly moved his belayer gear to Giles’ rappelling rope. Once again, he called, “Rappel on,” and watched as the Auror turned cop backed off the edge, cringing more than Roy had. Giles grimaced, but forced himself to rappel down as quickly as possible. He fumbled a bit with unhooking himself from the rope, but worked his way free without too much trouble. Mimicking Roy, the Auror pulled his weapon, checking it briskly.

Wordy rappelled down without help, drawing two awed/envious looks from the two rookies, though neither spoke. With the exercise in motion, Wordy stayed on task, checking the next room before nudging the door in front of him open as quietly as possible. The trio headed down the steps and Wordy rammed the next door open with a shout of, “SRU; hands in the air!”

Roy and Giles, unprepared for the immediate entry, ended up flat on their backs before they quite knew what was happening. The Auror, however, countered with a quick roll and a hand that flew down to his wand. He got off two Stunners before the ‘subjects’ kicked his wand away and aimed their weapons at him. Roy, once on his back, just groaned and stayed where he was.

“Not as bad as I thought,” Sam drawled, ignoring the dirty looks and Wordy laughing in the background. “You both at least got down to the landing without making too much noise and in the field, Giles, the Statute of Secrecy’s not worth your life. Going for your wand was the smart move to make.”

“Even if it didn’t work?” Giles questioned as he retrieved said wand.

“Give up and you’re dead,” Ed opined from the opposite wall. “That was _your_ problem, Roy.”

“Ed, I’m beat,” Roy complained from the ground. “Save the lecture for when I can actually _think_ , wouldja?”

“Fair enough,” Sergeant Parker decided from the doorway. “Neither of you are going to get enough experience to make SRU in a week. But read up tonight; tomorrow is hand-to-hand.”

“Oh, _goodie_ ,” Roy moaned loudly.

* * * * *

On the morning of the fourth day, Roy and Giles decided they were done with SRU ‘boot camp’, regardless of Team One’s opinion on the matter. They were, to put it bluntly, sick of training, regardless of which form it took, and more than willing to _show_ their opinions. So the two _arranged_ what _they_ regarded as a prank…

* * * * *

Wordy was occasionally labeled by his teammates as a prankster, a label he wore with pride, particularly after he’d pulled off a prank or three to break the tension or welcome a new rookie. But one thing he – and all the other pranksters of the SRU – always kept in mind…a prank that puts people at risk is not a prank, even if the prankster doesn’t _intend_ that result. So when, in advance of the day’s live fire session, Wordy found that all of the SRU guns had _mysteriously_ been replaced with identical – right down to the nitty-gritty details – but nonfunctional replicas, he was _not_ happy.

“Sarge,” Wordy called, coming into the briefing room with one of the guns, “We got a problem.”

Sarge looked up, one eyebrow hiking at the grim expression on the constable’s face. “What’s wrong, Wordy?”

“Take a good look,” Wordy replied, sliding the gun across the table to his boss. “And tell me what you think.”

Wary, Parker picked up the gun and inspected it from barrel to grip, frowning in confusion. “Looks like one of our guns, Wordy.”

“Break it down, Sarge.”

Confused, but game, the Sergeant obliged…and finally realized why his constable was so angry. “No firing pin,” he growled, looking up. “The other guns…?”

“All of ‘em, Sarge,” Wordy confirmed with a sharp nod. “These _aren’t_ our guns, Sarge. Jules has a little mark on her gun, ‘cause her sidearm’s a Glock 26 and ours are Glock 17s.”

Sarge’s frown grew; Jules preferred the smaller Glock 26, but one time Spike had accidently grabbed Jules’ gun instead of his own in the middle of a hot call scramble. After that, Jules had marked her gun to prevent anymore slip-ups. “No one on our team would pull a prank like this,” Parker observed.

“No, but Roy and Giles have been getting fed up with us and I bet they didn’t think it through before they pulled this stunt,” Wordy pointed out. “If I wasn’t in the habit of doing a last minute check before live fire sessions, I’d never have caught it.”

Sarge leaned back in his chair, his frown deepening into a scowl. “Tell Eddie to have Roy and Giles report to the briefing room once they get here. Then I’d like you to make a call…”

Wordy grinned; Roy and Giles wanted a prank? They were sure gonna _get_ one.

* * * * *

“Gentlemen, have a seat,” Sergeant Parker ordered as soon as two curious and mildly wary detectives entered the briefing room. Once they were seated, Greg gave them a pleasant smile. “I’m sure you’ll both be happy to know that today’s live fire session has been canceled.”

The detectives’ expressions flickered, but didn’t change. The negotiator’s smile widened and gave every impression of turning congenial. “Instead, I’ve decided the two of you are ready to tackle an actual negotiation…after a briefing, of course.”

Now the Sergeant was getting the reactions he wanted; both Giles and Roy were looking suitably nervous at the idea of _negotiating_. Standing, Greg moved around the briefing table and laid a gun in front of Giles. “But first, Detective Onasi, field strip that gun for me and tell me about it.”

Though unnerved, Giles broke the gun down, just as he’d been taught; while he worked, Greg moved back to ‘his’ side of the table. Once the Auror was done, he remarked, “Looks just like the gun you’ve been teaching me to use, Sergeant Parker.”

“I see,” Parker mused thoughtfully. “So you wouldn’t mind confronting an armed criminal with that weapon?”

Roy blanched and Giles flinched.

No longer congenial, Greg slammed both hands on the table, his eyes hard. “I understand the two of you are frustrated; you’ve been asked to master – in two weeks – tactics and techniques which ordinarily take _months_ to learn. But at the same time, _this is an active unit_. We _depend_ on our weapons and the two of you _pranked_ those weapons. By this time tomorrow, I _expect_ that all of Team One’s weapons _will_ be returned and if either one of you ever does anything like this again, you’ll be _gone_. Do I make myself clear?”

Thoroughly cowed, neither man had the courage to meet Greg’s eyes. Very meekly, Roy offered up a, “Yes, sir.” Giles couldn’t even muster that much; he stared at the ground, clearly wishing it would swallow him up.

After a minute of silence, Parker spoke again. “Only Wordy and myself know about your attempted prank, gentlemen, and it will _stay_ that way.” Twin head bobs, but neither detective dared to look up. “Now, I suggest the two of you get your coats and Wordy will escort you to your negotiation.”

“You aren’t coming?” Giles ventured, doing his best not to cringe as he looked up.

“No,” Greg confirmed. Looking over their shoulders, he added, “Constable Wordsworth, they’re all yours.”

* * * * *

An hour later, Wordy leaned back on his family couch, watching rather gleefully as Roy and Giles futilely struggled to talk two little girls out of making them participate in a _tea party_. The constable snickered as he angled his smartphone to get the _best_ possible shot of Roy Lane, holding a frilly pink tea cup and wearing one of Ally’s gaudiest princess crowns.

The image was sent directly to Sarge with a simple caption below: _Mischief Managed_.

_~ Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's Side-Story is brought to you by my birthday today! Sadly, it's a birthday without my family and I haven't seen them in a year as of now, but with the way the world is (and the total lack of any social life), I guess I'd better get used to it sooner rather than later.
> 
> Anyway! I hope everyone is having a great day and Happy Birthday to me!
> 
> Keep the Peace.


End file.
